


Nephilim Dreams

by Starlightdawn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, sexy smutty humerous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21808108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlightdawn/pseuds/Starlightdawn
Summary: I wrote this when I had only seen like 4 episodes of SPN, so it's a bit sketchy.I'm a late starter to this party, but enjoy it immensely.This is the story of how Sam and Dean try to help out Cas, but blunder along the wayJust a bit of fun really.
Relationships: Castiel - Relationship, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Nephilim Dreams

Nephilim Dreams - StarlightDawn

“Dean’s right Castiel…..just hear him out….” Sam clenched his jaw, feeling like some kind of corn about to be ground into dust between the two implacable forces of his brother and the Angel.

“Leave it Sam….if this feathered dick can’t bear to trust us with a little more information...then he can’t trust us to do the job…..That right Cas? You can’t trust us...mmmm?”

Dean’s eyes were giving off green sparks of irritation, helping the smouldering look of anger worn by his face. The Hunter and the Angel faced each other, arms folded, a stare down of major proportions already underway. Sam groaned softly, not needing this shit, but knowing, all the same that the feathery dick called Castiel would not have asked if it were not really necessary.

“Look….Cas...Listen….” Sam tried to pull the baleful blue stare away from his brother’s angry scowl. “You say it isn’t a demon…..that it’s nothing belonging to Crowley…” The combatants bristled even more at the mention of that name…  
“And it’s not a monster…..leaving what? A human...or an angel? It’s got to be one of them...so which is it Cas? Come on...you owe us this at least…..”

The blue eyes tracked something out of sight, something over Deans’ left shoulder, the way he always did when the Angel was deep in thought. He sighed, just as he always did, when he was about to do something he didn’t think he should...something involving the Winchesters.

Dean was still scowling when the Angel finally spoke.

“It’s not human….and it’s not Angel……” The brothers eyes both widened, as two pairs of hands clenched into iron fists. Castiel’s blue eyes searched their faces, worry creasing his brow.

“You must never tell a soul about this Dean...Sam….do I have your word..?”

“Okay...okay….if you could just spit it out before I die already….” Dean’s patience was stretched to a point it was better not to be at, his head lowered, almost ready to charge like a bull. Sam becoming more worried by the second that Dean was going to turn away from something that must be urgent, important enough to have an angel like Castiel almost begging for their help.

The said angel, smaller than the two brothers, seemed to shrink down in his trenchcoat, a worried glance around them before he spoke, his voice a little more than a rasped whisper.

“It’s neither….but it’s both…..” The words hung heavy in the air, Sam and Dean both giving him the hard stare, expecting more.

“It’s a Nephilim…...the product of an Angel mating with a human…..”

Sam’s mouth turned down at the corners, his brain processing the implications, whilst Dean widened his eyes, his broad shoulders rising and falling in a massive shrug.

“So what? Does this Nephilim creature have angelic powers? Can it smite us for fucks sake? What’s the deal?”

“It has to be terminated...by a reaper…..it’s not...well...it’s not got the...potential...it’s supposed to have….”

What do you mean….potential?….You mean it’s not...err...two shots short of double?.….A peanut short of a Snickers?...that sort of potential…?”

“Umm…..I haven’t been given the exact details myself…..I have to make sure this creature is held securely until the..Reaper...comes to..well...take over it’s care….”

“Reaper…? For a Nephilim…?” The angel turned as Sam spoke.

“It’s special…..that’s all….” blue eyes looking sad and far away.

“Fucking great….an Angel with ‘special’ needs….what next...a Unicorn wanting a rainbow resprayed…?”

Dean stomped across the room, reaching for the whiskey, his back to the sight of his brother staring at the thin air where the angel had been standing.

Xxx

“Where is it Sam? We’ve been around this block so many times there’s grooves in the tarmac…if you can’t read the fucking map, pass it over....just find it can you?”

Sam rustled the paper, his face contorted in irritation as he tried to see the small map in the flashes of street lights, cold water sprinkling on his neck as the rain came in through the open car window. More by luck than anything else he spotted a flickering yellow neon sign, almost washed away by the torrential rain.

“Must be there Dean...pull over…..”

The small hotel was better than expected, an actual living potted plant on the reception desk, and an elderly clerk who found their booking, seemingly without hesitation.

“This must be where the Angels hang out when they visit…” Dean was checking out the place, which appeared to be a few steps up from the dingy motels they were used to, his mouth curling up in a grin as he noticed the ‘room service’ menu.

“Hey Sammy, we can get pie and all the trimmings delivered to the room….what d’ya say?” his eyes crinkled as he smiled, but Sam still had that pained look, frowning across at Dean as he signed the register.

“I just want to get the job done and get back to what we’re supposed to be doing.” Sam was finding his brother’s constant jibes tiresome. It had been a long drive and all he wanted was shower, food and bed. Dean, on the other hand, seemed to have found a second wind, his boots tapping, enthusiastically flipping through the pages of information about the hotel. The happy grin, all white teeth and promises, beamed across at Sam, as the older brother realised that there was a bar, a casino, and a private club where ‘entertainment’ went on until two in the morning, all under the same roof.

Duffel on shoulder, Dean turned toward the elevator, thumping Sam on the back as he passed. 

“Come on Bro...this is going to be fun……”

Against his better judgement, (the lift was a tad confining if Dean got ornery) Sam brought up the question of how they were going to watch the Nephilim, if Dean was out partying, and Sam was sleeping.

“I dunno...Cas didn’t say it was dangerous...maybe we cuff it to the radiator or something...I dunno….don’t be such a nit picker Sam…”

Dean couldn’t get to the phone quick enough to order off the room service menu, ignoring Sam’s bitch face as he requested a main course, apple pie and coffee for both of them.

“What…..? What…?” The older brother lifted his arms wide in an effort to goad Sam into an argument, but Sam, wise to Deans tricks, shouldered his bag, and in three long strides disappeared through the bathroom door, muttering ‘shower’ and ‘screw you’ under his breath.

Dean did a swan dive onto the bed, which made enthusiastic squeaking noises as his muscled body connected with the comforter, where he lay for a few minutes with his eyes closed, only rousing when the phone beeped.

“Mr Winchester…….there’s a gentleman down here says he’s got something for you….please could you come down and take it off his hands….”

The shower was still running, plentiful hot water meant that his sasquatch shaped brother would likely be ages yet. Dean picked up the room key and made for the door, bouncing down the stairs like he was off to a party. He’d not given any thought to what the Nephelim may be like, only that Cas had booked adjoining rooms, so it was either going to sleep on it’s own, or with one of them. Hell, he didn’t even know what sex it might be, indeed if the Nephelim had a sex. If they had to hold it until a Reaper turned up, so be it….all Dean was thinking was that if he could get Sam to babysit, it left him free to sample the delights of this charming hotel.

Until he turned the corner into reception and almost barrelled into a giant haystack, dressed in baggy old denim and a faded checked shirt which could likely double as a sail. There was also a weird, outdoorsy smell in the air….sort of like hay and chickens. He didn’t look like an angel; they usually sported Armarni, apart from dear old Cas, who seemed to favour the Thrift store. Dean squared his shoulders, wearing his best ‘fuck you’ smirk. The reception clerk had sidled out from behind the desk, looking nervous.

“Ah...here he is….this is Mr Winchester..sir….” His voice trailed away as the figure stood like a monolith, watery blue eyes peering out from the creases of his face, before removing his hat to show a deep tan-line across his brow, and sparse looking straw coloured hair.

“Mr Winchester…..I have something for you……” his voice was scratchy, too many hours spent in the fields, Dean surmised, his boots were baggy and worn, and his hands were sun spotted, as wide as shovels. Slowly, almost ceremoniously, he rolled back his worn cuff and took something from his wrist.

“You best keep this on ya at all times…..it’s got a binding spell already, but don’t you be fooled….She’s a varmint al’right” 

His voice was low in Dean’s ear as he handed what looked like a dog collar over to Dean. He then reached a thick arm around his back, dragging a slight figure in a hooded cloak out into the light.

“This here‘s Noelle…”

Dean didn’t hesitate to look over what was the first, and possibly the last Nephilim he’d ever see, and his initial impression was more than a little disappointing. Surely a creature which was half Angel should be a little more...eye catching perhaps? But then, Castiel was hardly the poster boy for the Angelic realms, he mused. He slipped on the dog collar/bracelet over his wrist, and took a step forward.

“I’m Dean….me and my brother Sam will be ...err...taking care of you….till...well until morning I guess.” He held out his hand, and was almost surprised when a small, very cold hand, returned the handshake.

“So..that’s when they’ll take me...in the morning….the Reaper will come….?”

He still couldn’t see her face, the hood was drawn down too far, but her voice was low and musical, and possibly a little sad.

They were interrupted by her escort clearing his throat, loudly.

“Touchin’ as this is Noelle, I gotta be goin’. You don’t be holdin’ a grudge agin’ us girl, after all you didn’t turn out t’way you shoulda……..” Turning back to Dean he gave a hard stare.

“Don’ let her outta your sight, Mr Winchester….the Reaper’ll deal with her ” He touched his hat, giving Dean a slight nod of his head, before he turned. As he opened the door, a gust of cold air and raindrops swirled into the small lobby, before he disappeared into the dark night.

Xxxxxxx

Dean’s order was sitting on the cozy dining table, making his mouth water as the fragrance of beef and gravy scented the air.

“You hungry?” he questioned the woman, pointing to a chair. She nodded, still behind the hood, which was long enough to cover most of her face, sitting down and pushing the sides of the cloak back from her shoulders. Sam, his hair still damp from the shower, looked down at the figure, motionless on the chair, taking in the mud spattered cloak, the ugly lace-up bootees she wore, and the general air of neglect which surrounded her. His eyebrows rose as he glanced across at Dean, before helping himself to a plate of food and moving off to the couch where he could watch the TV whilst he ate.

Dean’s lips compressed as he dished out another plateful, holding it out to the woman.

“Gravy?” he muttered, an undertone of irritation in his voice. He was rather hoping for someone, who was half angel, to be a little more interesting, but the person sitting opposite him looked more like a Berdel (like the Amish but a whole lot more weird) than an Angel.

Finally, she lifted her head, pushing back the hood with both hands, meeting his stare. Eyebrows shooting almost to his hairline Dean dropped the knife, which splattered loudly onto the gravy. She was beautiful...like a marble statue could be beautiful ...full lips, expressive blue eyes and sculpted cheekbones. But there was no smile. Dean’s eyes flickered away, quickly composing his face to a low grade scowl, concentrating on wiping the knife.

He glanced through his eyelashes, seeing her sitting, silently, her hands folded into her sleeves, until he realised that she was waiting for him to start eating. He forked up a mouthful, chewing happily, still watching her from the corner of his eye, as she took small, cautious bites. He could tell, despite her neat manners, that she was hungry.

Finishing the main course, he called to Sam, “You want apple pie? There’s cream’n all……?” Dean was grinning, the smirk becoming wider as Sam held his hand up, a no to the pie.

“What about you?” He was already reaching for the dish when Noelle spoke out.

“Yes, I’d like some dessert please.” Her voice was low, meeting Dean’s look of outrage with an even stare of her own. She was becoming bolder, the beef had stiffened her spine.

Dean’s smile had turned upside down, but he didn’t pass any remark, just cut a modest slice of the pie and slid it onto a side plate, passing it to the woman, before pulling the dish towards him and slopping over most of the cream. He dug in his spoon, happily shoving in large mouthfuls, making ‘mm mm’ noises as he chewed. He had his eyes closed, didn’t see her mouth quirk up at one side, almost a smile, before she ate the sweet pie using the same small, neat bites as she’s used on the beef.

Pushing back from the table, Dean belched softly, lacing his hands behind his head, leaning back comfortably in his chair. Noelle was silent, her head bowed, showing strands of reddish, greasy looking hair escaping from the sides of her cap.

Dean was determined that he’d get some information from her over the coffee. He couldn’t understand why a Reaper was coming for her, it didn’t make sense. He poured her a cup without asking, placing it down at her elbow.

“Berdels people don’t drink coffee…..” he drawled, waiting for her reaction. If he was in line to be dragged away by the Reaper in the morning, he’d certainly want coffee….fuck the rules. Her head tipped back until she could see him from under the brim of her cap.

“I’m not a Berdel….I just had to live with them….and I like coffee just fine…….” She drained the cup in one, settling it back on the saucer with a slight rattle as her hand trembled. Dean’s left eyebrow raised, becoming more curious, as he poured another cup.

“Sam...coffee….” he held out the remaining cup. Sam came to the table, his head cocked sideways trying to see the girl’s face.

“You want to freshen up….change your clothes….?” Dean couldn’t understand that any chick would want to wear the frumpy looking dress a moment longer than necessary.

“I’d love to wear something else…..but...as you can see, I don’t have anything….” She went silent for a moment, staring down at her fingers before she spoke again.

“This is a hotel...right?”

“Sure is honey…..” Dean almost purred, his cat green eyes looking at her curiously.

“Maybe then I could have a bath?” I never had a bath before…..” her blue eyes met his in a look which seemed both defiant and pleading at the same time.

“OK...no problem….but you’ll have to stay within the reach of the spell….” he lifted his hand, and the phantom gleam of a chain showed up in the distance spanning between them. They were interrupted by a soft tap at the door, followed by a womans voice.

“Room service...come to clear your room…..”

Sam was over at the door in two long strides, checking the spyhole, his hand on his gun. He looked back at Dean with just a slight nod of his head, pulling open the door whilst smoothly hiding the weapon. A young woman in a maids outfit pushed in a cart, then went to clearing the dishes, whilst doing her best to eyeball Dean without being too obvious.

As she turned to pull the cart back out Dean moved, sliding past her before getting his hand on the door. He bent to whisper in her ear, and as she giggled, he took some bills from his shirt pocket, pressing them into her hand. She flushed, still eyeing him as she tried to make pushing out the laden trolley into a sexy manoeuvre.

“OK, let’s see if we can make your bathing arrangements to your liking….” he winked at Sam, who just rolled his eyes, his fingers tapping away at the laptop he’d taken from his bag. Dean put on his best smarmy smile, flicking Sam’s ear as he passed. “Well I guess it’ll only take one of us to wash her back”

Luckily, the bubble bath both smelled nice and bubbled enough to cover her, or so Dean thought as he sat on a cushion, his back leaning on the end of the bath. He heard the gurgle of water as the bath filled, his eyes on the opaque glass door where he could just about see the hazy reflection as Noelle stripped off the ugly dress and shook out her hair, but it was hardly a peepshow.

“Owww…” 

“You ok there?” his head half turned.

“Yes...thank you...I didn’t expect it to be so hot….most of the showers we had were luke warm...it’s just different…..” Dean could hear the rush as cold water was mixed in, the fluff of bubbles rising even more.

The water swished as she stepped in then slowly dipped under the bubbles, before a long pleasured sigh floated across the room.

Dean took a deep breath, wishing that she wouldn’t do that. A little conversation might be a good idea, to take his mind off the wet naked woman three feet behind him.

“So how long did you live with the Berdels…?” his deep voice carried around the tiled room.

“Since my mother took me there, to hide us...I was four at the time, so I was there seventeen years, I guess….”

“And you didn’t like it?” He was curious.

“How would you like to be kept a prisoner...my ma died when I was ten...they kept me there ever since….being half Angel was like some sort of a trophy to them, I was supposed to be married off to the head of the clan..”

“But that didn’t work out…?”

She was silent for a while, then her voice, low and bitter, replied.

“Their idea was that before I could be married to that grumpy old farmer they had to prove that I would be fertile. But every time they tried it...Angel mojo kicked in...healed me up again...and no matter how many times they tried it...they failed...I was declared barren, and for a Nephillim, that’s unacceptable. They knew they couldn’t keep me locked down forever….sooner or later I’d escape…..”

Dean was quiet for a while, listening to the swirl of the water in the tub behind him.

“So that’s why the Reaper’s on his way?”

“I guess……”

Apart from the swish of the water, they were silent, until a light tap at the door roused Dean from his thoughts. Sam was on the other side holding a sickly coloured blue suitcase.

“The maid brought this….said she raided the ‘lost property’....Hope you find something to fit...” Sam kept a straight face as he handed the case to his brother.

“OK asshat, thanks….better see what she found.”

Dean carefully poked around in the case, pulling out a toilet bag, which he slid along the floor at the side of the bath.

“Here Noelle...there’s some things you might find useful…..”

A short while later, after he heard the bag opening and the sound of her rummaging inside, she called to him.

“Dean….can you help me plea…..OWWW….”

He turned, startled, twisting towards the sound of her cry of pain, to see her leg dangling over the side of the bath, a long trail of blood startlingly red over the shiny wet skin of her shin.

“What happened..?” 

His serious gaze rose, taking in the wet hair twisted high, revealing the long smooth column of her neck rising from the bubbles. Peeking through a gap in the foam, a sweet pink nipple seemed to tease him, but he quickly looked away. This was not the time to be a peeping tom.

“I tried to shave my leg….but I didn’t get it right….can you help….” She held out the lady razor to him, her eyes wide, trying to hold on to her dignity. He sucked in a long breath, fighting the urge to think about where this might be heading.

“OK, but we need to stop it from bleeding first…..”

“That’s OK, I told you...I heal almost immediately.” 

He wet his hand, wiping the blood from her leg. Sure enough, there was no cut.

He pursed his lips, wondering how in the fuck he had got himself into this situation, before lathering up the soap in his hands, then running them from knee to ankle on the exposed leg. Cupping his palm around the firm muscle of her calf, he was soon removing the dark hairs with precise even strokes.

He sat back on his heels as she squirmed sideways to present the other leg, seeking a repeat of the process. 

“Holy fuck….” he whispered under his breath.

His brows drew down as he concentrated on the soapy limb in his grasp, determined not to look at the amount of skin shown by her manoeuvre. Although he enjoyed the feel of soft skin, he wasn’t altogether comfortable with the intimate contact going on here, no sir…..he was maybe afraid of hurting her, digging the hard pads of his fingers into the creamy texture just a little too deep…..or maybe it was the urge, half fantasy, half what if, that made him want to pull her towards him, water cresting up and over the tub, to wrap his hands under her ass and pull her wet and wide open onto his face.

His lips pressed together as if to keep out the idea, as he dropped her ankle and moved back.

“You’ll have to finish off yourself….” his voice was a deep gritty murmur, wiping his shirt front with a towel. This was turning out to be a bigger challenge than he’d expected. He huffed out a breath, running a hand over his face, only to be even more disconcerted when he caught the faint whiff of peach scented soap.

Finally out of the steam filled bathroom, Dean’s booted foot rested on the corner of the nightstand. He was sitting in a deep armchair, side on to an open wardrobe door, his shirt dangling over the radiator. Behind the door a naked woman was busily trying on the outfits from lost property, the blue suitcase open on the floor next to the bed. It seemed a little pointless to be worried about it at all, the Reaper sure as hell didn’t care what she wore, but chicks liked to look nice, and Dean was not about to spoil her last night on Earth by complaining.

In actual fact he was rather enjoying the way she stood back every so often, sliding around the open door to show herself for his scrutiny, expecting his opinion. He’s seen her in an old lady suit, a long skirt and mis matched blouse, and finally a T-shirt and mini skirt combo. His eyes seemed to darken at the sight of the short skirt, looking her up and down, tongue flicking over his lips. She stared straight at him, her head slightly tilted.

“There’s some long boots here…..should I put them on too….?” Her lashes flickered innocently, giving Dean a tight, slightly nervous tickle in his gut. This was work, for Christ’sake….at least that’s what he told himself, as he stood up abruptly, moved around her to the door. He felt the chain tug on his wrist, but he ignored it, letting it spread out to it’s fullest extent. Suddenly he was feeling very warm.

“Sam….Sam...you awake?....” he sat on the edge of the bed, looking over his brother’s shaggy hair, moving slightly as soft snoring noises could be heard. It wasn’t unknown for Sam to feign sleep to get him out of something particularly unpleasant. Dean looked down, a frown crinkled his forehead, undecided if to wake Sam and make him take a turn guarding the increasingly sexy Nephillim, or to manfully continue to resist her innocent but strangely seductive charms.

He pursed his lips, running his hand over the nape of his neck, smoothing down the soft sheen of hair there, before glancing across at the mirror. His face already wore the smile he normally gave to attractive women, all white teeth and wide round eyes. Giving himself a mental shake, he stood, boots hardly making a sound as he crossed the room to stop at the mini bar.

The vodka was cold and slightly oily as he chugged it down, smacking his lips as he pulled all the miniature bottles from the bar and into the crook of his arm. Sam chose sleep…...and Dean...well he wanted a drink.

Noelle had climbed under the coverlet, her hair, finally dry, a glossy deep auburn, long and spread on the pillow. As Dean made his way back to the chair, she opened her eyes, blinking in the low light of the bedside lamp.

“Go to sleep, princess…….” Dean sat, pushing off his boots, setting his feet back in place on the nightstand, twisting open a second bottle.

“Would you want to sleep if the Reaper was comin’ for you first thing in the morning?”  
He turned in the chair, meeting her intent stare head on, letting the silence stretch between them, before finally answering.

“I guess not……” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this….mom told me that I’d meet a man who would make me happy….give me babies…..and it’s been nothing like that….” He could tell she was struggling not to cry, her eyes glossy as crystal. She was quiet again, the tears spilling down her face, making Dean squirm. He hated seeing anyone cry.

“Will it hurt…?”

Her voice was almost a whisper, timid, like a child as she asked the question Dean had no intention of answering. His experiences of death had been painful, physically…..mentally….in every way he could think of. The woman who had stood in front of him, innocently seeking his approval for some tatty, left behind clothes, he couldn’t see how she deserved death.

He stood, agitation obvious in the tense set of his shoulders, the knit of his eyebrows as he looked away. She shook off the coverlet, scrambling across the mattress, trying to kneel up facing him, her hair falling over her shoulders as she landed in his arms with a jolt.

“Please Dean….please….show me what it’s supposed to be like….”

Hesitating, green eyes widened, meeting her blue stare, the flush on his cheeks becoming deeper as he pulled her against his chest, checking out the full swell of her breasts revealed by the ill fitting night dress she wore.

“I can’t do that Noelle…...it wouldn’t be right….you don’t know me….you’re half Angel for fucks sake….It wouldn’t be fair….” He held her away from him, his long fingers wrapped over the chilled flesh of her arms, noticing how she trembled like she was afraid.

Her eyes met his again, like cold steel points, and he realised that she wasn’t afraid at all….she was angry. Pulling her arms from his grasp, she reversed the hold, gripping on to his biceps before launching him across the bed, straddling his thighs while he was still taking a breath. He watched, fascinated, as she pulled at the nightgown, smoothing down her hair, before her fingers slid under the black tee shirt he wore, her cold palms resting against the warm skin of his stomach.

“Wouldn’t be fair…? What if I forced you? Now that wouldn’t be fair…...would it?” she spoke quietly.

Dean looked up at the almost naked woman, the very attractive woman sitting across his thighs, and smirked. Hell. he’d resisted temptation so far, but she was determined….it just wouldn’t be right to turn her over to the Reaper before he’d shown her a good time. Obviously, the Berdels didn’t put much store on pleasuring their womenfolk, and to Dean that seemed just plain wrong. Such an attractive redhead deserved better.

Totally cool with his logic, his right hand crept slowly over the bed cover, two fingers brushing up the inside of her thigh, before he reached up to pop open the top button of his jeans.

“Maybe….we could get to a compromise darlin’......maybe you just show me what you want….an I’ll try to help …..mmm? What d’ya think….?

He watched, mesmerised, as the smile transformed her face, her eyes soft and gleaming, he could feel warmth flooding in to her fingertips, before she grasped the hem of his shirt.

“OK….now we’re getting somewhere…...maybe if you got naked? I want to look at you…..” She fiddled with the shirt, before he obligingly took it from her, crossing his arms and pulling it off over his head, dropping it and laying back down, spreading his arms wide in invitation.

A slow smile spread over his face as he watched her reaction, how she sat up, nightdress tangled around her slim shape, while her eyes locked onto his torso, his smooth skin gleaming in the subdued light, shadows contrasting where the hard muscle contoured his arms and belly. He heard the shaky intake of breath as her eyes drank in the sight of him, smirking back at her.

“Umm….that’s some body Dean…….you don’t look like a farmer at all……” she tried to smile, but seemed to be shaking. Before he could sit up to pull her into his arms, she slid away, landing with a soft bump on the carpet at the end of the bed.

Her head peeked up, staring over his legs, eyes wide. 

“Let’s see the rest…..if that’s ok……?”

“Sure is…..more than ok….help yourself sweetie…..”

He drawled, soft voice honey over gravel, forgetting the circumstances as he became enthralled in the game with this angel-girl, how her bold determination outweighed her inexperience. She reached over, delicately tugging on the zip of his jeans, avoiding any contact with the obvious bulge, jiggling on his belt loops until she could pull off his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop. He chuckled quietly, green eyes fixed as a pink blush spread over her face, before she bent forward, hair tumbling, pulling at his socks until they slid off to leave him naked as a new born.

His cock curved up against his flat belly, twitching as she pulled her hair back from her face, finally letting the ghastly nightdress puddle around her feet. She was staring round eyed, giving Dean the pleasure of being admired; he could almost feel the heat of her gaze, tingling over his skin, sending a combination of goose bumps and butterflies loose in the sensation.

She was stock still, staring, her mouth parted showing a sliver of pink tongue winking slick in the light. Dean couldn’t wait….he wanted to kiss her so badly...like he was her first lover, and wanting it to be special...even though he knew that he wasn’t….it didn’t matter. His stomach tensed as he sat up, startling her, reaching out to cover the curve of her shoulders in his warm palms.

“Noelle….” she felt the low rumble of his voice as he pulled her against his chest, before he tipped her around so he could lie her flat, his hand wrapping in her hair, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath over his mouth. Something about her eyes, as he stared, a fathomless deep as if he was looking into space, the pupils huge and dark, drinking him in like water. As he kissed her, his tongue exploring the soft wetness, he wasn’t thinking, just enjoying the sensation as her body flowed against him, cold turning to an explosion of heat everywhere he touched.

They kissed, something building between them like an inferno, turning the icy coldness of her skin to a glow like a sunburn, soaking into Dean’s muscles like a trip to the sauna. He rubbed against her like a large cat, scenting her, taking his time to nip and lick at every part of skin he found, relishing the hardness of her nipples, ripe like cherrystones against his chest. He could hear her breath, stuttering, small choking sounds caught in her throat, encouraging his relentless plunder. 

Dean knew how to handle a woman, knew the moves, where to bury his fingers, how to crook them just so, as his tongue lapped greedy, making his head spin and his cock leak, his mind completely focussed on the sensations; he loved the feeling of nails raking his back, hearing his name over and over, the sex and woman scent flooding his senses, smiling that slow smug grin every time he made her scream.

But, after he’d shown her just how much she had missed, it was time. Dean was aching for it, as he pulled her against him, hands under her bottom so he could impale her. He didn’t use a condom, her angel mojo guaranteed she was clean, so the sensation of fucking her bare was a unique and delicious treat. He had some vague notion that he would pull out at the finish, but her long legs wound around his waist, and the brain melting orgasm he enjoyed just left him pumping into her like she was the best and last fuck he’d ever have.

His heart still thumping, she wriggled around, making him squirm as she licked him clean, moving on to suck a bite on the inside of his leg, before she gave his balls a tongue bath. His teeth clamped down hard on his lip, sensation just the right side of painful, too soon, too sensitive, pulling his half hard cock into her mouth and sucking him back to full mast. He was up as far as the headboard, nowhere else to go, her hands gripping under his knees, doubling him back to give her space as her tongue explored.

She had no shyness, massaging the soft skin of his balls until he shuddered under her tongue, his eyes closed as he gasped, bucking as her slick wet mouth moved along, her tongue probing to find the pulsing entry, her hands splayed over spit slippery skin. 

His breath caught, flustered, as her tongue pushed deep, precum blobbing from the end of his dick despite being too soon and too goddamn sensitive. Her lips were shiny as she pulled off him, a secretive smile curling her mouth, before she resumed her exploration, the soft unyielding push of her tongue causing goosebumps to roll over his skin.

“You like that Dean?” Her eyes locked onto his, intent and glowing in the dim light, searching every plane and curve as if to lock the memory of his face into her own private cache. Her finger slid into place, wiggling, searching….and eventually finding the small nub of pleasure hidden inside him. He bucked as the sensation travelled like lightening along his nerves, almost choking as she swallowed his dick, as easliy and slick as a porn star.

“Jesus Christ Noelle…..where in the holy fuck of creation did you learn to do that……?” His eyebrows high and arched as she continued to blow him slowly, a finger working firm and gentle, rubbing sparks from his prostate which were catching quickly and surely into a blaze.

Pulling off, dropping a kiss onto the steel hard head of his dick, she uncoiled, leaning towards him as she lowered herself down, one hand splayed open on his shoulder, the other twisted back so she could continue to finger fuck him. She smiled as he made small choked off sounds of pleasure, his eyelashes fanned sweetly over his cheeks, mouth swollen and pink.

His body shook, pulsing into her for the second time as she watched his face, the hard lines all softness and pleasure. Her breath blew out in a small sigh as she felt the tickle of tears against her eyelids. This was the first and last time…..this man, his body spent, lying limp between her thighs….he was what she should have had…….

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

His arm was heavy, the muscles solid against her shoulder as the girl who was half Angel wriggled quietly, slowly sliding down and free from the warm embrace of the sleeping man. It was almost 3.00am, the room was cold and dark, scarcely a sound made by Dean as he slept with the deep calm of the well fucked. Noelle trod softly to the bathroom, the long trail of the chain gleaming like a phantom snake behind her.

A few minutes later she emerged, washed, hair freshly combed, and the nightdress, still too big, dropping sexily from her shoulders. Standing for a moment, she listened, assessing the soft snores as Dean slept, smiling to herself as her gaze took in the sculpted curve of his shoulder, and the vulnerable fan of his eyelashes dark against the pale skin.

Without a sound, she opened the connecting door, pleased to see a dim glimmer of light almost welcoming her in. Careful to spread out the tether behind her, she crept up to the bed, where the other brother was sleeping, his hair long and tousled on the pillow. Still as a statue she watched him, trying to see a resemblance to Dean in the soft light of the bedside lamp.

Without any warning, he snapped up, pistol pointed directly at her, despite blinking eyes giving away that he was less than half awake.

“What the fuck…..what? Where’s Dean?” his voice low and rough with sleep.

“He’s asleep….he got drunk….and he rolled in the blanket…...and I’m sooo cold.” Wrapping her arms around her body, she shivered, her eyes fixed on the floor as she lied to Sam. The younger brother had no cause for disbelief; the behaviour she described was just about typical of his sibling. In fact, he was surprised that such a pretty woman had not fallen victim to his brothers charms, and was not by now lying flushed and dishevelled, pinned down by a sexually replete Dean.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his thin V neck tee shirt and sweat pants no barrier against the coldness of the room, trying to get his head wrapped around the reality of the almost naked, very attractive woman shivering with cold only an arm’s length away. His mouth compressed to a straight line as the decision was made. He drew back the covers, looking at the Nephelim invitingly, holding his arms wide when she hesitated.

“I won’t hurt you Noelle…..and if you want to get warm this seems like the best option…..” He spoke softly, his smile widening as she took the step, coming to rest her chin on his broad shoulder. The cold of her body sent a shudder through Sam, so he wasted no time in drawing her down to lie them side by side, pulling the covers up to lock in the slight patch of warmth remaining from his earlier slumber.

She wriggled into place, her back up to his chest, her bottom curved against his stomach, pulling his arm over the dip of her waist, then letting out a long sigh. Sam was amazed to feel the icy coldness suddenly turn warm, bringing out goosebumps along his back. He swept her hair to one side, nestling his jaw against her neck, where the soft peachy smell lulled him into a doze.

XXXXXXXXXxxx

Sam was dreaming…..a lovely dream where he was blissfully warm….laid on his back whilst someone gave him the best blow job he ever had. In fact it was so good his toes curled and his head rolled back on the pillow, soft little grunts of pleasure every time he felt the agile tongue swirl over his cock, sucking him deeper into that sweet wet mouth. He was almost there, his breath stuttering, balls clenching when the dream stopped being a dream. He jumped, almost out of his skin, when he felt long silky hair pulling through his fingers, followed by the pressure of skin and body readjusting against him. Before he could even think, fingers took his cock in hand, tugging up once to slide his foreskin over the shiny wet head, before he felt the unmistakable feeling of a woman’s cunt sheathing him in slick swollen pleasure.

“Jesus…...wha…. the fuck…. Noelle…….nnnooo...yyyeah...oooggghhh…..”

Then she was kissing him, covering his wide mouth with amazing ease, given her small size, pushing her clit against the hard wall of his pubic bone, until he heard the sobbing breath, and the shudder as she climaxed in his arms. All too much for Sammy, who was almost bursting for his own release, pushing fast and hard, head spinning as the orgasm came over him like a crack of lightning, going on for ever as his dick pulsed a hot jet of spunk inside her.

Finally, she released him, still hard, from the prison of her slippery channel, snuggling down to his body with a contented ‘mmmm’ Sam blinked, surprised but gratified, that an attractive woman had given him the pleasure of her body. He tried not to think that the fact that she would be taken off by the reaper in the morning had had anything to do with her wantonness.

Sam drifted slowly back into a contented slumber, as Noelle laid motionless by his side, hardly breathing in the soft afterglow of their shared pleasure. Eventually, satisfied he was out for the count, she followed the same process as before, sliding out from the weight of his arm, to stand by the bed, where she spent a few moments staring at his fox like features, sweet and relaxed by sleep.

Eventually, reluctantly, she moved away, pausing to peek through the curtains seeing the first yellow beams of sunlight bouncing across the car park below, reflecting rainbow light from the puddles. She pulled the chain clear from the sheets, took a last lingering look at Sam, smiling wistfully, before she disappeared through the connecting door, pulling the spectral chain along in her wake.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dean blinked, rubbing the side of his face where a trail of cold spit had settled into his stubble. He frowned when his fingers failed to contact the knife which should have lain under his pillow. The sound of metal clinking against china came from the bathroom, temporarily distracting him from his search. Sitting up with a huff, he pulled on his boxers, followed by the jeans from the heap on the floor, glancing at himself in the wardrobe mirror, where red rimmed eyes bore witness to the effects of the hotel minibar.

“Noelle…..Hunny….what are you…..ohh shit…..”

As the door swung open he saw the Nephelim, naked under the light, his large hunting knife in one hand as she sawed determindley at the hank of hair wrapped over the other.

“Stop….Stop….here baby….let me help...you’ll have your fingers off….why do you wanna cut this….it’s beautiful….” His eyes glared through the mirror, brows drawn down in his classic scowl, but the woman ignored his expression, drawing out what was left of the long hair, showing just how badly she’d cut it. Dean compressed his lips, wishing she hadn’t attempted a hair cut. Eventually, he fished around in the toilet bag, finding a well used hair brush.

“Hold still….let me try to get this straight….Jesus...I don’t know why you are bothering...it’s not like you’re on a date….” He bent to the task, not seeing the glare she gave back, eyes blazing like blue fire in the mirror.

Eventually, more due to the well honed blade than any skill of Dean’s, the thick glossy hair rested just over her hairline; a classic, if slightly uneven bob revealing her graceful neck and pretty ears. She smiled and blew a kiss at him, before twisting around, to reach the shower before he could make a move to stop her.

Dean wiped off the blade on the towel, sighing. It would seem that Nephelim were every bit as ornery as human females. Speaking of which, grabbing the rest of his clothes, he pushed through the connecting door to rouse Sam. Still cocooned in the bedclothes, Sam was sleeping, a small smile at the corners of his mouth. Dean left him alone, choosing to use the shower in peace.

Within the space of an hour, Dean was on his third coffee and Sam was pacing around the room, but both were eyeing the connecting door like a herd of buffalo were on the other side. Dean swiped at his mouth, his eyes nervously glancing at Sam, before he bellowed.

“Come on Noelle…..you have two minutes before I come in there and….”

The door swung open.

Both men stared wide eyed and foolish, at the sight of Noelle, hair sleek and gleaming, wearing a mini skirt and long boots, a man’s shirt open at the collar, tied in front, revealing her abs and the curve of her waist. She even had a gleam of lip gloss, deep pink against the pale skin and a purely natural flush on her cheeks. Dean glanced across at Sam, smirking unconsciously, slightly disconcerted when Sam winked back at him.

“We need to move….it’s not a good plan to keep a Reaper waiting..” Dean fussed with her case, holding tight to her elbow, leaving Sam to juggle with two duffels and the cloth bag full of weapons.

They were down in the lobby, bill paid, both pairs of eyes fixed on the young woman who was not long for this earth, as they waited for the Reaper. Dean swallowed, shot a glance over at Sam’s pale, mournful face. Finding the situation almost too difficult to deal with, he jumped to his feet. Taking long strides he reached for Noelle, pulling her against him, her body folded tightly in his hold. 

“I’m sorry Noelle….there’s nothing I can do...last night...it was awesome….” The corner of his mouth twitched as he attempted a smirk.

“No...thank you Dean….you gave me more than you know….” She smiled, kissing his lips with a soft and sad determination. Eventually, she pulled away, stepping softly across the room to stand in front of Sam. His arms came around her, both of them gazing into each other’s eyes like they were getting married. The older brother turned away, a look of disbelief over his face when he realised that not only had the Nephelim shared his bed, but she’d also played fast and loose with Sammy as well.

He could hear the face sucky noises as they kissed, making the hairs on his neck stand on end. It didn’t last long - the lobby door opened silently, and a thin, worn looking man, dressed like an undertaker, entered the hallway. Sam stood back, his arms dropping from her shoulders, his eyes still on Noelle, as she sighed and turned to face the reaper.

“Well, well….well…..” The Reaper sounded puzzled as he took stock of Noelle’s unconventional outfit, staring openly at the naked flesh exposed around her tummy button. The moment seemed to stretch on in the dusty sunbeams of the hotel lobby; the Reaper staring at the impassive Nephelim, Sam and Dean frozen, waiting. Only a quiet beeping from the office at the other side of the reception desk broke the unsettling silence. Sam blinked as the Reaper’s dusty voice finally spoke.

“It seems like the Angel was wrong...you won’t be needing me afterall……”

The brothers exchanged stares, both wondering if the Reaper would expect to take one of them instead of the red haired beauty, who had picked up her case and pushed open the door, disappearing without a backward glance into the bright sunshine of the new day.

Before Dean could open his mouth to raise the questions tumbling through his mind, the Reaper spoke.

“I’d better be going now…..I’ll be having a word with the Angel Castiel, he should know better than to waste my time…..Good Day gentlemen……” With that he tipped his hat, and strode through the doors, disappearing as soon as he got outside.

Xxxxx

It didn’t take them long to reach the Impala, stow the gear, and slam the creaky doors. Sam braced himself, hearing the deep intake of breath, the usual signal that one of Dean’s legendary rants was imminent, but before he got started, the air moved, and the car dipped slightly.

“Sonofa Bitch Castiel…..now you turn up? Well you’re too freakin’ late….the Reaper didn’t want her, and she’s gone……” Dean scowled into the rear view mirror.

“Gone….?” The angels eyes were round as he seemed not to understand.

“Yeah….he said you were wrong, Castiel…...that his services were not required…..so it looks like you wasted our time…..” Sam didn’t bother to hide how pissed he was at what had happened, his bitch face firmly in place.

“So where is she…..where has she gone……?”

“Don’t know...don’t care….fuckin’ gone….if you want her...then you’ll have to find her….we’re done….” The growl of the engine filled the car as Dean pulled away from the parking lot, still wearing the sort of face which would scare young children.

“So why Cas….explain….” Sam asked, seeking reason as usual.

Cas gazed unseeing out of the window, the passing scenery having no appeal for him, as he considered the situation. Eventually, he sighed, meeting Sam’s green hazel eyes, gazing directly at him, accusation clear in his expression.

“She was supposed to bear children to populate the Earth with more...more... rational beings….she appeared to be barren, so it was decided that the Reaper should take her, and we start over, creating another Nephelim.

“So what did the Reaper mean, when he said you were wrong….?” Sam was having a hard time getting his head around this, but Dean, although he couldn’t see them, knew that the tips of his ears were burning, and a pretty pink blush was brightening his cheekbones.

Castiel’s voice was low and grating when he spoke.

“Which one of you was it?”

Sam’s brow crinkled, still not getting it. 

“Which one of you got her pregnant…..?” Cas enunciated slowly and clearly.

The air seemed like it treacle.

Dean eventually spoke up.

“I did.”

Sam faced forward, frowning, as he did that little twitchy thing with his nose, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. Luckily, both Dean and the Angel were ignoring him.

Cas sat back, his eyes giving the blue faraway stare, brow crinkled, deep in thought. Eventually he spoke.

“So where is she….we need to find her…..she might be carrying the saviour of mankind…”

Dean’s lips pursed in the legendary pout.

“Sure….the baby will be awesome….” he grinned across at Sam, slapping hard on his thigh as he smirked. Sam was still, eyes fixed on the windscreen, saying nothing, a hard lump in his throat that made his eyes water.

“So what d’ya think Sam…..should we go after her?”


End file.
